


Two Halves

by SharpestRose



Category: Ned Kelly (2003)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-07
Updated: 2011-07-07
Packaged: 2017-10-21 03:34:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharpestRose/pseuds/SharpestRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can divide your life neatly down the middle, into two halves swift and sharp as the wishbone Grace and Dan have pulled apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Halves

You can divide your life neatly down the middle, into two halves swift and sharp as the wishbone Grace and Dan have pulled apart. There's _before Stringybark_ , where you're the young son of a selector in Wangaratta and you play ball around Dan Kelly's washing line in the evening light, kicking up dust with your boots and whooping when you win the game. And then there's _now_ , hiding from the coppers and bootlegging liquor and panning through river silt for gold to sell, and sometimes a Sunday dinner at the Kellys' or the Byrnes' place.

Your nose in sunburnt, you get along well enough with the sun when it glints in the dirt in your pan but otherwise you're on unfriendly terms. Joe claps you on the back and says 'don't worry, Steve, in another five years or so you'll have whiskers to protect the skin'. He's only two years older than you are, but since he runs with Ned and you with Dan, and they've three times that between them, he calls you _young one_ and cracks his jokes as he plays cards with Ned by the fire.

Grace bickers with Dan over the scraps of the dinner you all shared, she's told you many times that she likes you better than any of her brothers and sisters because you'll sit and pose for her sketching. You tell her that you like her right back. You like all of the Kellys, who've never closed their door to you even in the hungriest of times.

Kate hands you a few neatly folded blankets, all the worn bits darned up nicely, and says _here, the weather's getting colder and you're all out in the open at night_ , and Ned says _we are not, Catherine, you've slept in those caves yourself often enough_. You say _it's all right, we're warm enough_ and Kate smiles the saucy smile that got her caught by the eye of that bastard Fitzpatrick and says _sure you are, Steve, but take the blankets anyhow_.

Kate's a year younger than Dan, but girls can't stay innocent round this area any more than the lads can. Look at Dan, twelve years at stealing horses and him just seventeen, game to stare down a copper with a loaded gun and game to follow a brother into outlawry.

"A short life and a jolly one," Joe wrote in a letter to his mate Aaron, and you've taken that to heart. You remember it when you think of your Mum, wringing her hands and saying _oh, Steve, oh my boy... if this hadn't happened, think of all the things you might have done_. Joe is never going to let you forget that scene, even if you could somehow stop remembering it yourself.

You think of it when you say goodnight to Kate and take the blankets, which Ned and Joe are glad of but you don't need, just as you said. And you think of it when the four of you ride back into the bushland, detouring quickly to leave a pair of old stained drawers on the doorstep of the police station as a greeting card, a 'too rah, mate, sorry we couldn't stay to chat' note. Ned checks his watch (such a watch, you've aspirations of having your own shiny time-teller one day maybe) and says _let's turn in, eh?_

Dan's exhausted, so Ned offers to take first lookout and Joe snorts and says _you spoil that kid_ and Dan says _shut it, Byrne, you're all talk and no balls_. You and Dan curl up, and his wicked soft hand slips down the front of your trousers as he whispers _I'm not so sleepy as I let on_ and you'd laugh but his hand's moving fast now and you gasp into his shoulder instead and he laughs, the bastard, and you rub your chin against his cheek so in the morning Joe will see that you do have the start of a beard, you're not so green as he likes to make out you are. Nor's Dan, for none but a man with a grown head on his shoulders would know such clever ways to make you gasp and struggle against him in the dark of the cave.

As you drift off to sleep, warm and sated and comfortable against Dan's broad back, you think of your Mum's worries and then you think _but, oh Mum, if this hadn't happened, think of all the things I might have **missed**._


End file.
